The Last Hope
by Rhodium
Summary: My first attempt at a Pern fanfic. An ongoing project owing to lack of inspirationtime


**The Last Hope**

**Introduction**

Welcome to the darker side of life, the side of life that is more likely to happen than the light side. Death, despair and heartbreak. Certainly not as nice as the light fluffy side, but the more common of the two. This was written partly as a protest of ALWAYS having the happy ending, and partly because the idea WON'T leave me alone! Based in an alternate Benden Weyr, all the Weyrs in the North are still occupied, although depleted to the point of extinction. I hope you all enjoy it even though it isn't the fluffy, happily ever after kind of Pern you are used to. And thanks to you for taking the time to read this. It is my first serious fanfic, and I have enjoyed writing it.

**Prologue**

The 9th pass approaches. The weyrs have been decimated by a virulent lung disease that struck the dragons, hitting fully grown dragons, weyrlings and hatchlings alike. The Weyr's populations have been cut by over two thirds, leaving them short of fighters for the approaching thread. Of the remaining dragons, less than five hundred, there are seven queens, one of which is fertile. Thankfully she is young and strong enough to help repopulate, and even better... She recovered from the lung disease that hit the dragons so hard. Her offspring will be immune! The hopes of Pern rest on her shoulders...

**Chapter One: Hopes Building**

N'ramen looked out over the bowl, shoulder length dark hair lifting in the breeze, grey eyes depthless as he scrutinized the weyr. The top ranks of the weyr was mostly empty now, save a few or the older riders who preferred the quiet. Most had moved to the ground or near ground weyrs, rank and privileged places didn't really matter with the number of them there was now. He himself chose an upper weyr for the simple fact that the Weyrwoman also took an upper weyr. There were so few dragons now. For years they had been in decline, along with rider popularity. He sighed and looked to the Weyrwoman's weyr. Gold Kirenth rested on the ledge, her hide gleaming in the early morning sun, and with youth and health. The Queen really was the most beautifully proportioned he had seen. And, he mused, the last in all Pern. She was due to rise soon, her third clutch and second year for her rider as Weyrwoman. The lung disease that had hit the dragons hard seemed to have calmed, and she, having recovered, would pass the immunity to her hatchlings. The dragonriders would soon rise in number, and all for the better, as thread was due to return in a few turns

Giving one last scratch to the great Bronze head beside him, he walked round to Garmeth's shoulder, mounting his soulmate. _Garmeth, we need to go down for breakfast now. And you could do with some food today. Kirenth will rise soon, and you will need to be healthy and strong to chase and catch her._Garmeth snorted, rising from their ledge and launching himself from it to the ground below. _I will fly well; after all, the weyr needs the best weyrleader it can get now. And we are it._ N'ramen grinned, thumping the Bronze as he dismounted. _You, Bronze, are too cocky for your own good. Go, feed yourself, while I do the same_ He grinned up at the Bronze as he leapt into the air, admiring the deep, almost gold sheen to his dragon's hide. And to think he had nearly lost him to that illness... He shook his head and entered the dining cavern, walking to the high table, bowing to Kirenth's rider. "Good morning to you Weyrwoman" he bowed, a grin on his face as Janera told him off.

"Now stop that you great big nuisance, and get some breakfast. Garmeth is well today?" She patted the bench beside her, pleased to see him in the caverns after his prolonged absence. He had worked hard to save his brother's dragon, and the dragon of the Weyrleader, and a few of his wingriders, but had failed. The illness had torn through the weyr, decimating the population. There was less than a third of the population left, and the same stood for the rest of the weyrs. She was the rider of the last fertile Queen on Pern, but at least Kirenth was young and strong. By the shells, they would repopulate, and protect their homes. Lost in her musings, she started as N'ramen spoke in her ear.

"A mark for your thoughts, dear Queenrider. And doubtless I am not the only one who would offer such" He gestured to the Bronzeriders seated at or near the high table, all watching the Weyrwoman for signs her dragon may rise soon. "You will have little peace for the foreseeable future; they are all waiting for the flight. You will have a lot of people to fetch you food and wine at the very least" Grinning, he grabbed some klah and some of the fresh cooked bread and the green berry preserve that was on the table, and settled to eat his breakfast, feeling Garmeth doing the same.

A while later, breakfast finished and in his washing clothes, he headed out to the lake, finding Garmeth wallowing in the shallows. Wading in, he grabbed the offered nose, the shallow were not so shallow for him, and was pulled to his dragon's shoulder. Well, she will not rise right now, but it will be soon said the Bronze, looking up at the lounging Queen, a croon starting deep in his throat as she looked at him _And when she DOES rise, I will catch her._ N'ramen looked at the Bronze with narrowed eyes. "You know," he said out loud. "I think you might well catch her!" He set to scrubbing his dragon clean, Garmeth must be relaxed and happy within himself to catch the Queen, and he, rider of the boastful one, would do all he could to help.

Janera stood watching N'ramen as he bathed his Bronze; they really were a fine pair and well worthy of Weyrleadership. Kirenth snorted on her ledge, looking down at her rider. Fine he is, but it will be the best Bronze that takes me The Gold rolled her neck against the rock, scratching an itch and still managing to look elegant. Lifting her head she looked down at the Bronze, blinking and almost purring. _He IS a fine one... it will all depend if he catches me first, though I wouldn't mind twining necks with him. _ Janera choked with laughter at that statement. _You are starting to sound like a Green!_ She laughed at the Queens indignant snort. _Now, are you coming to bathe or not? You would feel less itchy for it._ Her tone shifted and she waved the brush at the Queen. _I have your oil all ready if you care to drag your lazy behind down here._ She grinned as the head and neck were abruptly withdrawn and the Gold dropped down to ground level, eyes red tinged. _I am NOT lazy. I just like the sun, and I was conserving my energy. _One eye closed slowly in what was almost a wink, the colours shifting to blue with a tinge of purple as she nudged at her rider. _Come now, I AM itchy_ The Gold waded into the lake, blinking and rumbling at Garmeth in greeting, then sighing in relief as her rider climbed to her shoulder and started scrubbing.

N'ramen looked over at the Gold pair near them, Garmeth lifting his head from the water to stare at his rider who was perched on his Bronze belly. _You want to go see her. Offer your help. Kirenth is a big dragon._ He crooned smugly, _I am sure her rider will be pleased of the help._ The Bronze turned in the water, dunking his rider into the water, reaching out his muzzle he pushed the floundering N'ramen towards the pair then turned towards the lake edge and waded out, shaking almost canine like to clear himself of water. Curling up, he watched the three in the water, eyes glinting green and blue under the first lid as he closed the second set to snooze. N'ramen glared after the dragon and then grinning turned to the Gold pair and swam over. "Greetings to you both" he bowed as well as he could in higher than his height water. He held up a sand pouch. "Would you like some help? O can fetch sand for you if you would like? I appreciate how long it takes to wash a large dragon and Kirenth is larger than Gar" he grinned up at Janera. He had offered, now to see if she would accept help.

Kirenth lowered her head to the Bronzerider, crooning gently as she did so. _I like him, he is polite. Sand would be good _Her tone wistful she looked up at her rider. Janera grinned at the Gold, then at N'ramen. "We would be grateful if you would help, it is her back that itches, and if you could fetch sand I wouldn't have to climb on and off" She giggled as N'ramen saluted then dove into the water._ He would be a good leader, he has the sense to offer help, yet isn't patronising about it._ The Gold merely snorted, watching the rider as he returned to the surface with sand, handing the pouch to her rider. She sank deeper into the water as the sand was poured on and scrubbed in, a happy trill rising from her as the itch was banished. N'ramen and Janera continued like that until the Gold was gleaming and itch free, then waded back to the lakeside. With a grin, N'ramen waved. "I must go now, Gar and I need to go to the paddocks and check over the stock for any weaklings, and then after that, Gar gets to get all oily, so if you two lovely ladies would excuse me..." A sweeping bow finishing his statement, he ran to his dragon, climbing onto him as the Bronze raised himself to his feet. _A fast exit please Gar, nothing too fast though, I have no straps on. Flashy will do  
_

With a loud roar, Garmeth rose into the air, barely creating any dust, and circled for a moment, looking down at the Queen and her rider. _They saw, now do we go?_ N'ramen laughed out loud at the tone in his bondmate's voice _No need to sound so fed up. The ladies all like a bit of show in their males._ He laughed again as the Bronze's snort rumbled through him, then waved to those below as he and Gar went Between. On the ground Janera and Kirenth looked up, the rider laughing as the pair made an exhibition of themselves, the dragon grumbling about over flashy Bronzes. With a loving clout to the Gold shoulder, Janera turned to finish oiling her love.

**Chapter Two: Hopes Weaken**

The next two sevendays went by almost like a blur. The Bronzeriders spent every moment they could tailing Janera, and every moment they couldn't be tailing her, talking of the flight to come. On this flight rested not only the hopes of the Weyr, but the hopes and future of Pern itself. At this point, a few of the riders dropped out of the pack. R'liren, the eldest of the Bronzeriders, Dropped out of the running as he considered himself too old to properly run a weyr. That, coupled with the fact his Moneth was still a little wheezy from the lung disease, brought around his decision. "We want to give the younguns a chance, don't we Moneth? I wouldn't want to risk him on a flight that might not have a good clutch if he wins" He looked around the other riders seated at the long table in the diving cavern, nodding as he raised his cup of klah at Janera. "You just make sure that you keep your dragons in peak health and strength, they'll need it to catch that young Gold out there" He looked around the table, noting the expression in each face, stopping when he reached N'ramen. "And what are you thinking?" he asked N'ramen, narrowing his eyes at the thoughtful expression on the younger rider's face.

N'ramen looked up at a nudge from a fellow rider, "Sorry, were you talking to me?" He looked down at his plate, pushing some of the green leaves around his plate, "I was...I was just thinking about the future," he replied. "We need to make sure the strongest catches Kirenth, to ensure a good strong clutch, to get the maximum number of eggs" He looked down at his plate again, wondering how to explain his idea, when a roar of laughter startled him. Looking up, he saw R'liren leaning back on his bench, tears of laughter running down his face. "Oh, you have guts youngun. How will you see which are the best? Or do you need to work that out?" He laughed even harder at the guilty look on N'ramen's face, the latter now looking round the table at his fellow riders. N'ramen took a deep breath, and then spoke up. "I think we should allow only the middle aged dragons to take part. They should be young enough to have the stamina to catch, yet old enough to know how to prolong a flight for the biggest clutch" A voice called out from the end of the table. "And your Garmeth would be involved of course?" N'ramen looked towards the end of the table, glaring at all there. "Yes, he would. He is coming up twenty turns now, and won the majority of flights he was in, which is more than can be said for your Timath"

The rider who had spoken up flushed red and sat back, clearly he hadn't expected to be identified. The other riders around the table were talking amongst themselves and N'ramen watched as they finished their conversation. One stood up, K'imen if he remembered correctly, and spoke. "We think that that is an unfair way to run a flight. But," and he held up his hand to shush N'ramen who was about to protest, "We will agree to that. It is better for the next few flights that this happens. After that however, it will be the best dragon to win. Now, between eighteen and thirty two turns is the middle age of dragons, so we agreed it will be those to rise. They total ten dragons including Garmeth, and the best of luck to you all. My Woreth is too old" His piece said, K'imen sat back down again. N'ramen sat back with a sigh, now that was sorted out, they had to wait.

While the weyrs held their breath for Kirenth's rising, life continued. There was still a lot to do. Green needed clearing from holds and weyr; threadfall practice went on, the weyrs trained together in that. It would help them integrate new dragons into wings. And the most important task as well, enduring the health of the riders and dragons. Thread would soon return, and every dragon was needed. Especially as they were down to less than five hundred, barely enough to make two full strength Weyrs. The Bronzerider group were worried yes, but the rest of the weyr was too. Of the four hundred and eighty seven dragons Pernwide, only three hundred were capable of fighting thread. They were indeed in trouble. Kirenth's rising was being anticipated by all the weyrs and by the holds too.

The Holds were still in full support of their Weyrs, and had every confidence that they would rally and rise to protect them from their ancient enemy. The tithes remained generous, and to Weyrs at less than a third of their full capacity, were luxurious. Attempts to return some of the tithe were refused, the riders needed the food to get strong, and the wine would keep them healthy. The Lords and Ladies in charge were even willing to send over helpers to save the rider's strength, an offer which was politely turned down. There were, after all, plenty of people in the weyrs, just not that many dragons.

Midway through the second sevenday Janera called a meeting of all the Bronzeriders. She explained to them that Kirenth would rise soon. She was not showing any preference so it would be the best dragon that caught the Queen, healthy and large clutches would be needed, and this was the best way to do it. It was at this point that N'ramen spoke to Garmeth. Would he be healthy enough to fly? The healers had offered up some doubts as to his strength. Garmeth had snorted; of course he would be able to fly. He was fine, and the healers couldn't know otherwise. It was, after all, his body and not theirs. All would be well, and he would triumph!

He and Garmeth waited behind after the meeting to speak to Janera. She smiled at him, but waved him away. "I have to go through some of the records for the dragonhealers, they are concerned about a few of the weyrling's growth rates, and they want to see if there have been any smaller dragons in past times, because these are way too small. I will speak to you later though" She smiled up at him, watching as he struggled with his emotions before a smile won over. "I'll see you later then," he said, touching her face lightly with his fingertips before running his hand through her light brown hair. Trembling, she leaned her face into his hand, closing her eyes as he moved closer to her and kissed her. A shock ran through them both, and they leaned into one another breaking apart suddenly as a rising croon made them aware of what they were doing. N'ramen stepped backwards, bowed then vaulted to Rineth's back. "Later Janera, this will be continued! The Bronze leapt into the air and Betweened leaving a shaken Goldrider behind with her dragon. You liked it, you should have carried on. It felt nice. Janera looked at Kirenth in utter disbelief, and then stormed off to the records cavern. It almost felt like that darned Gold was laughing at her  
.

For the next sevendays the entire Weyr was on tenterhooks. Kirenth had been due to rise earlier that week, and had not. Worries were high that the last fertile Queen on Pern really wasn't fertile, and that all Pernese were doomed. There was even a group found at a smaller hold, one of the more woodsy holds, the kind that never really listened to what was said, but made their own rules and assumptions. There were a twenty of them, all dead, even the infants. A note accompanying the bodies declared that they would sooner take their own lives than be eaten by Thread. Saddened, the riders and dragons of the sweepwing that found them dug graves and buried the bodies, even the hardest of them brought to tears by the baby still in his mother's arms.

And so, hysteria started to show on Pern. Despite the assurance of the riders, small holders continued to panic, several leaving in the middle of the night to go live in cave systems far from any forested areas, the problem with this being the fact that they chose a rainy night to do it and got caught in a bog. Their bodies were found partially submerged three days later. Other groups attempted mass suicides, though failed due to increased dragon presence. Sweepriders checked in on the hillside holds twice daily now. All of Pern was now waiting for the flight of the last Queen and the only thing that could be done for now, was to sit and wait, and sit and wait all of Pern would do.

**Chapter Three: Hopes Rising**

Three sevendays after Kirenth was due to rise, and the Weyr was still waiting for her to rise. Every morning when he woke, N'ramen would look over at the Weyrwoman's ledge at the still gleaming Gold, who seemed to be getting brighter by the day. This morning, however, was different. The gleaming Gold was still sleeping, not watching her weyr as she normally did. Garmeth was laid on the ledge, eyes on the Queen. N'ramen looked out over the lake. It looked warm today and he decided a swim would do him good. Walking to his dragon, he rubbed the eyeridges and smoothed the cheekbones. Garmeth blinked his eyes in welcome, and then lifted it slightly. He spoke to his rider without once removing his eyes from Kirenth.

_It will be very soon. You would like a ride down to the lake? I will take you then come back up. I wish to be here in case she chooses now to rise_ His eyes whirled, reds and yellows mixing in with purple as he regarded his rider. _I do love you, you know_. he said _I just need to stay here in case she rises. I will not miss her this time._ He crooned, nudging his rider up onto his back, trying to make him FEEL that he had to stay here.

N'ramen patted the great Bronze shoulder and leaned forwards, inhaling the almost spicy scent of his dragon, and was almost overwhelmed by the love he felt for his dragon. _I know you love me, and of course you have to stay. But do me the courtesy of coming to fetch me if she heads for the feeding grounds will you?_ Grinning as he received an affirmative, he swung his leg over Garmeth's neck as the Bronze hovered over the lake. _Good diving height for me Gar, now lets see if I can pull off a triple spin this time!_ He dove from his dragon's neck, managing 2 and a half spins before he hit the water, back first. Gasping and spluttering, he broke the surface, watching his dragon veer away to return to their ledge.

There were two other riders there, both Green, and they nodded a greeting to him as he waded to the edge of the lake. R'mir, the male rider spoke as he reached normal talking distance. "My Finath says that Queen up there will go up today, she isn't sleeping for real"

N'ramen looked up; indeed, he could see a gleam of red shining from the Queen's half lidded eye as she watched Garmeth. Listening in closer to his soulmate's mind, he heard the Bronze rumbling smugly. **_I will fly you well; you know I am the best for you. You and I will indeed bring beautiful hatchlings into this world. _**With a start, N'ramen realised who the Bronze was talking to as Kirenth raised her head and hissed slightly at Garmeth. **_GET DOWN HERE NOW!_** he shouted at his Bronze, **_And get us to the feeding grounds! You must blood now!_** He leapt from the lake, waiting at the edge as Garmeth swooped down to grab him, not even waiting for his rider to mount up. Hanging from his dragon's claws, N'ramen had a few moments to think there must be better ways to travel, when he was deposited on the ground, and Garmeth was swooping onto a wherry buck, tearing the neck and sucking it dry before leaping for a passing herdbeast, doing the same for it, and another three after it, rising after the last to rest on the cliff edge.

N'ramen grinned as from the weyr rose a wild scream and the following roars of assorted dragons, the noise rising in volume and depth as from behind the cliff Kirenth rose, gliding down to the feeding grounds, followed by another nine Bronzes. Looking smugly at Garmeth, N'ramen almost burst out laughing. They were there first. They had had time to blood properly, they held the advantage.

Garmeth was burning hot, with both blood, and mating drive. He was finer and stronger than these other dragons, and he had the advantage of a full blooding. He looked down at his Queen to be as she crouched over a herdbeast, snarling up at her rider as she was forced to blood, and then bugled as she looked up at him, crooning to her as she snarled at him, eyes locked to his and swirling with reds, oranges and yellows. She hissed at him, a long drawn out sibilant that pierced him and filled him with purpose. She would be his!

Kirenth looked away from Garmeth and flung the final herdbeast away from her, hissing at the Bronzes surrounding her. Snarling deep in her throat, she sprang into the air, wings opening to catch the air and power her upwards. She shrieked in defiance as the Bronzes leaped up after her, barring one, who sailed downwards before lifting into the air close behind her. Looking back for a moment, she saw her followers, and shrieked again, this time adding a lustful warble at the end, shooting upwards at a thundering pace, followed by her males.

Reaching a good cruising height, she caught a thermal, almost seeming to float on the current of warm air. The sun hit her back, warming her and stoking the fires already in her. Rolling onto her back, she gave the same treatment to her belly. She flipped back to her belly, feeling a male come up behind her, and spun, seemingly out of control, groundwards, coming to within a few lengths of the highest cliff tops before reversing and heading back upwards on another thermal. She passed the males again on the way up, carolling to them and watching in satisfaction as they all scrambled to follow her, hearing the shriek as one fell back, wounded, possibly fatally.

There were now seven behind her, she could feel them, and their riders too, clustered round Hers far below. She screamed defiance of THAT; she would not be coerced by a puny human. She dove into the crowd of males, scattering them, lashing out at one that tried to whip his tail round her. He in turn fell back and lashed out at a fellow male, injuring him, and both dropped out leaving five behind her. She swooped upwards again, narrowly missing being caught by another Bronze.

Tiring slightly now, she swooped a little too low, and felt a tail twine round hers and was whipped over, claws grabbing at hers and a body slammed into her with a triumphant roar. She gripped onto Garmeth, feeling her rider lock together with Garmeth's rider. She shrieked her ecstasy, feeling/hearing Garmeth and their riders echo that.

Suddenly she heard Garmeth cry out, a rattle rising in his throat as he finally released her. They had levelled out, and were gliding in to land now. Tired, she looked happily at her mate, who looked back at her. Reflected in his eyes was a hint of happiness, but that was clouded by the rising panic and pain that he was broadcasting now. A few lengths now to the ground and they could rest.

Without warning, he screamed in agony, bright green ichor running from his nose and throat as his head snapped backwards, bubbling noises coming from him as suddenly he plummeted. Her scream for help was heeded by some of the beaten Bronzes, and they clustered to catch her mate, but they were too late. He disappeared before they could reach him. In shock Kirenth part fell the last length or so, hitting the ground with a bruising thump and, lying on the floor, joined the keen for her mate. She felt for her rider, to get help and reassurance, and was surprised at the turmoil in her Rider's heart.

**Chapter Four: Despair begins**

In the weyr, N'ramen and Janera had just pulled apart, glistening and panting. Janera touched N'ramen's face, trying to say what she so desperately wanted to but she couldn't speak. Something was wrong. Her Kirenth was worried about Garmeth! She looked back to N'ramen, and screamed in shock as she saw the new Weyrleader convulsing, trying to draw breath but seeming unable. She didn't hear the keen, so panicked was she, and did the only thing she knew to do. With a cry of anguish at the thought of losing him, she pounded him on the chest, forcing the air out and thus forcing him to breathe in again. With a shudder, he collapsed, and then she heard the keen. A cry of self loathing burst from her. She had doomed her love to be dragonless. She screamed for help, and then heard Kirenth calling for her.

She ran from the weyr, struggling to wrap a sheet round herself as she passed the threshold, bumping into a healer as she left. "He's in there. His dragon..." She sobbed and ran, her dragon needed her, and she could feel her pain and despair. It seemed like an age until she reached the Golden hulk on the floor, and she screamed again as she reached her. Head, neck and wing were folded under her, she was scratched and gashed from her rough landing, and the free wing glistened with the ichor running from the sailbone protruding from the golden hide. Panicked, she grasped for Kirenth's mind, and found her, weak and heartbreakingly sorrowful, but there!

She called out for a dragonhealer, and was immediately surrounded by people and dragons, some of which set to freeing up the wing, and lifting Kirenth so her neck and head could be freed. She lay unmoving, and it became apparent that her injuries were a lot worse than previously expected. Her other wing was shattered, a gash ran from the back of her head to her nosetip, and her right foreleg looked crushed beyond all repair. Kirenth and Janera cried out at the same time. A scream of longing, for death and release from pain from Kirenth, and one of sheer terror from Janera. "**You will not go!" **Janera launched herself at Kirenth; slathering numbweed on her from a bucket she had grabbed **"I need you!"** She coated as much of Kirenth as she could reach, then collapsed on the floor in relief as her dragon spoke to her _I will stay dear one, but I remain only for you. He is gone_ The Gold relaxed and laid her head on the floor, breathing out, then not breathing back in, pulling a cry of shock from Janera, until she breathed again.

The dragonhealer came up to Janera. "She will sleep. We have dosed her with a little fellis while we fix her up. You may stay, but you need to keep out of the way while we work" Janera nodded numbly, taking a seat on a bench that was dragged over for her. A glass of wine was placed in her hand, drinking it down, she immediately felt detached. They had dosed her with fellis too by the feel of things. Detached or not, she sat watching her dragon as the hours dragged by, and her dragon was sewn, set and splinted. She was horrified by the extent of the injuries to the wings and foreleg of her dragon, they looked like nothing more than chunks of bloodied meat and bone. A sob broke from her as she watched them clean and straighten the tangled mess of skin and bone, laying each piece onto a large cloth to hold them together while they were stitched. She must have landed at some force, Janera realised, to have torn them so badly. As they finished stitching and splinting the wings, they rolled the Gold to her side exposing the ruined foreleg. Janera sobbed as she saw the tattered lump of flesh and bone that dangled there. Bone protruded from the misshapen limb, and she wondered how they would ever get it straight. The team of healers closed around the leg, and Janera sat back to wait. Making a fuss would not help, worried though she may be.

At last, it was done. Both of Kirenth's wings were splinted and sewn, the long gash marring her head was stitched, and her foreleg...Well, they had done what they could with that, it was no longer lumped together, and all in all looked a lot more normal then before. They had straightened, splinted and sewn it together and were hopeful it would heal, though it was possible it would never heal enough to be used fully. The healers explained something about possibly having to remove it later, but Janera couldn't take it in, and waved them off. Quietly, she crept to Kirenth and lay down beside her, wracked with guilt for N'ramen...no. He would be known as Nilmaramen once more. Silently weeping, she snugged up against her dragon, falling asleep almost instantly.

As she and her dragon slept the healers talked in quiet tones in a room looking out on the Queen and her rider. Tiren sighed as he looked out on the ruined Queen. She glinted with green where ichor had run down her and white patched her golden hide showing where stitching and bandaging had been done. Grey tinged the sleeping dragon's hide and the rider didn't look much better. He turned to the others and spoke, quietly in case the Queen was awake enough to hear. He knew from experience that dragons often retained some consciousness while they were fellised, and he didn't want her to hear what was said. Not so much for her sake as her rider's.

"She is very badly injured. Her wings and leg may not heal, and if they do they will never be as strong. She must have food brought to her daily, one herdbeast a day. While she will not be able to gorge once a week due to the pain, she must be coaxed to eat for the sake of the eggs she will carry. All must make sure she is kept pain free, and her wounds must be cleaned twice daily. She MUST be kept from getting infected. Any stress now could cost the clutch, and that would be devastating. Firamenth the Fort queen will attend her to be sure she is slathered in numbweed when she needs to be, and to make her eat and drink if needs be. Her rider Karan will be there to ensure the same of Janera. We must ensure the health of this Queen, if not, we are all doomed" Quiet murmurs broke out as the healers discussed what was to be done. Tiren listened for a few moments then went out to check on the sleeping Gold, and to cover the Weyrwoman with a blanket.

As he exited the room, he noticed that the weyr ledges were crowded with dragons of all colours, eyes fixed firmly on their Queen as they sat in vigil with her. A voice was inserted into Tiren's head as he neared the Gold on the floor. You will take good care of her and make her well again. You will do a good job More of a statement than a question, it gave Tiren a shock to have a dragon bespeak him but he spoke back. Thinking as loud as he could back at the voice, the Dragonhealer reassured the dragon that he would as good a job as he could. He looked as he spoke, trying to figure which of the great beasts ranged above him had spoken, but all were looking at the Queen and seemed to be paying no attention to him. Shrugging, he walked to the bench and grabbed a blanket, covering the Weyrwoman with it before walking around Kirenth feeling for excess warmth near any of the wounds. When he touched one of the smaller scrapes on her shoulder, the Queen flinched her skin so he slathered on some numbweed to deaden the feeling. Satisfied that there seemed to be no imminent infection, Tiren headed to the dining caverns for food, the other dragons would let him know if anything happened or she needed help, and the healers that were in the room would need food and drink as well. He would get food and drink for all of them and come back. It would be a long night and they would need to keep their strength up.

**Chapter Five: Despair deepens**

The next day, Janera went to find the healers. To beg if needed, to let Nilmaramen die. He didn't deserve this; she couldn't imagine him dragonless, not without his Garmeth. She would send him to meet him himself if needs be, if they would only allow him to go. As she rounded the corner to their offices and quarters, she heard them talking.

"Garmeth should have been grounded still, he wasn't yet fully recovered. From what Nilmaramen has been saying, Garmeth felt like be was suffocating, and then was in such great pain he couldn't fly. Then he _Betweened_. From what we know that dragons saw, we can only assume he burst his lungs, and then his heart failed. He didn't stand a chance, and he should have known that. But what Bronze will listen when a flight is at stake..."

Half swooning, half reeling from anger, Janera shot round the door, stopping the healer short. "N'ramen would NEVER endanger his dragon! NEVER!" She stumbled forwards, guilt driving her to defend the New/Old Weyrleader. "If it was anyone's fault it was mine. I flirted with him. I DROVE him to want me. It was MY FAULT!" she beat her fists against the healer, sobbing, then fell against him, too drained to stand herself... "You HAVE to let him go. He cannot remain dragonless. I feel his pain like a knife in my chest. I stopped him going..." The last was said in a whimper as she sank to the floor.

The healer, Rikken, picked her up off the floor, laying her on a cot and handing her some wine laced klah. "Here, drink this, then we will explain what will happen from now" He watched as she drank it down, and then sat on the end of the cot so as to be at her level. "First things first, we were not talking about Nilmaramen, we were talking about Garmeth. He insisted he was fine to his rider. And as far as he and we were concerned, he was well enough, but we did ask him to hold off this once. Just in case... and it's a pity he didn't. Though, for all we know the weakness could have been there for the rest of his life. We just don't know enough" He sighed and rose, offering an herbal tea to the white-faced Weyrwoman who looked like she was ready to collapse.

Janera looked up at the healer, accepting the cup and sipping slowly at it. She felt boosted a little. "You said first off. What else is there? You may as well tell me now while I am sitting" Actually, she couldn't stand if she tried. The day was just getting worse, and now stabs of pain were spearing through her. "And Kirenth needs more numbweed on her wings and head" She watched while the healer sent a team of four to go slather Kirenth, and then sat waiting to be told what else was wrong. She didn't need to hear, but she had caused this, she would bear as much as she could.

Rikken sat on a chair, taking a cup of the herbal tea himself. "You said to let him go..." He sighed. "The sad truth is, well, we can't let him go" He looked up at her, watching her blanch. "See Weyrwoman. Once the first suicidal rush is gone, he won't go. Not unless he kills himself. And, we are dutybound to prevent that. We must not let a healthy person die. And as he is undeniably healthy..." He held up a hand to forestall a reaction on the part of Janera. "Dragonless yes, unhealthy no. There is a difference, no matter how subtle, and we must stick to that." He rose, holding his hand out for Janera's cup. "You may come see him now if you like. He is awake, but we are not sure if he will acknowledge anyone"

Janera followed the man, almost too afraid to enter the room he now went into. Here was her love, after all these years made hers. Dragonless and half a man, kept here by her selfishness. She quailed at the entrance of the darkened room, only entering as Nilmaramen called out to her. "You had better come in" His voice was flat and dead, and she sobbed again, heartbroken by the naked loss in it, yet still entered. She HAD to make recompense, and if this was the only way to do it, so be it. Taking a deep breath, she stepped through, scanning the room to find him, and then heading for the chair by the window where he was slumped.

"So, you have come to see me" came his voice, closer this time as he stood and turned towards her. He stepped into the light, and Janera wept anew for the look on his face. All fear gone now, and, she realised, she HAD been afraid of what she would see, she stepped forwards, embracing him, feeling his taut body flinch, then relax slowly. Suddenly he slumped, nearly dragging her to the floor with him, sobs wracking his body until she feared he would suffocate anew. Gradually, the flood slowed, and he turned his head towards her, naked heartbreak, loss and loneliness showing on his face. "Why?" he whispered. ""Why did you stop me from going? I want to...I NEED...Oh by the shells I want to follow him, and yet I am too scared. He will want to know why I did not follow straight away, and then what do I say!" He slumped again, this time in exhaustion, and was asleep in moments.

With a forlorn cry, Janera ran from the room, straight to her dragon, who groggily nuzzled at her. Battered and broken she was. But she was still there, and that was what mattered. Suppose they had been able to save Garmeth, he would have lived if N'ramen had been able to touch him, beg him. She would go back and stop him going _Between_! She would save her love's bond mate, and they would be together... Her dreams were cut short by Kirenth who coughed then spoke _It is done, there is no changing it. It is sad but true. I hurt, my head..._ Heartbroken, and blinded by tears, Janera reached for the numbweed and started to slather the Queen's mutilated head.

**Chapter Six: Despair Worsens**

Nilmarmen sat in his darkened room. He had spent the last two sevendays in a near catatonic state they told him. He couldn't imagine why he would have done that, he was to stand for a hatching soon. Everyone said he would Impress Bronze, why would he want to lie on a cot, unmoving, for two sevendays if that was the case. Something tugged at the back of his mind, well, more gaped than pulled. Something was missing... He shrieked out loud with fear and despair. His Bronze! Garmeth! He was gone, no Impression for him. It was too late, he had lost his dragon. He sunk back into his chair. They must have kept him drugged for him not to remember...his Gar. He gulped down a sob, and then stiffened as he recalled the day he had slipped into catatonia. The Weyrwoman. SHE had done this.

A voice rose outside his room and he raised his head, a mad smile taking over his handsome face. It was her. She would pay. He was rising from his chair, when another voice rose in his head. A whispery pale voice, but well loved anyway. _You must not do it now. Wait for the eggs, and then Pern will not lose all. SHE tore us apart, she must face the same. We will be together sooner than you think. _The Voice hissed, growing deeper with hatred and spite. _She and hers will pay for what they did to me.  
_

For a few moments Nilmaramen had second thoughts. The Voice sounded mad, so full of hate, that he didn't know whether to listen to it. Tearing apart a dragon and rider wasn't done by dragonmen... Then the streak in him that was no longer sane spoke in him. She had done it to him first, all he had left now was The Voice that echoed in his head and hurt him so badly with it's lack of body. The Voice rose again, triumphant this time. _We will take her while the eggs are on the sands. I will take care of her while you help the Queen. _The Voice was dripping with anticipation now, still hissing, and again Nilmaramen nearly quailed again until The Voice calmed. _I am alone, and it is so cold and dark here. I love you N'ramen._ It faded away, tearing him to his feet to scream aloud in anguish.

Janera, waiting for the healer outside of Nilmaramen's room, heard the scream and burst into the room. Finding him standing upright in the centre of the room, she moved swiftly to him, ready to catch him lest he fall. He looked down at her, tears streaming from his eyes. "He's gone. Really gone. Oh it hurts me, and I can't fix it" Sobbing, he fell into her arms, and she held him, heart torn with grief. She stroked his back as he wept like a child, tears falling from her face to his head. She looked down at him and her heart strengthened with resolve "I will look after you my love, until the day you feel you can join Garmeth, and I will help you there myself"

His sobbing lessened and he pressed his face into her shoulder, gripping her tight. She smiled down at him, pleased she had resolved to help him, and that he seemed to have accepted that help. She would have been less pleased and more afraid had she seen the manic gleam that crept into his eyes, and the lips pull back from his teeth in a pained grin as The Voice spoke again. _Stand firm and do not listen. She tries to trick you. Stand with me and we will bring justice to her._ The Voice dripped with loathing, and Nilmaramen's shoulders shook as he hid the mad laughter that rose in him. Janera, feeling him shake again gripped him tighter, soothing and stroking him until he fell asleep again, lulled not by her, but by The Voice, a voice he realized could only belong to his dragon. Separated yes, but not fully. A small smile played at his lips as he was laid back on the cot. They would be together soon...

Janera left the room, calling to the healers as she did so that Nilmaramen was asleep. Best that she did not look back to check on him, His eyes had snapped open the second she turned, and the snarl on his face would have struck fear into the hearts of stronger men. Laid on his cot in the darkness, he began to chuckle quietly to himself, the laughter rising to a manic cackle, alerting the healers to run and fellis him to sleep again. Janera heard the commotion and sighed in pity. At least her Nilmaramen was asleep and didn't have to listen to that. With a heart much lighter, she went to tend her Queen

**Chapter Seven: Deceptions Birth**

The next few sevendays were a blur for most of the Weyrfolk. Nilmaramen had come out of the healers caverns, quiet and withdrawn, but pronounced fit to help out around the Weyr. To Janera's gratification he came to work on Kirenth, the grief visible on his face, but caring for the badly wounded Gold to the best of his abilities nonetheless. He could be found nursing the Gold most of the day with Janera, helping numb the first pains, then itches as the rent flesh started to heal. Overall she was healing well, all bar the foreleg, which as the healers had feared, appeared too shattered to knit together properly. It looked to be knitting, but was clumpy and misshapen, and looked to be turning a dark green gold at the very tips of the claws, prompting fears she would lose the limb.

There was also the worry that the clutch that she had conceived was no longer being carried within her. Two sevendays after the flight, she had started to ooze dark green ichor from her, sparking off worries of miscarriage. Thankfully it hadn't lasted long, so there may still be a few eggs. They hoped so anyway, there were no assurances she would ever fly again. All in all, she was, for all she was healing, a very ill dragon. The lung damage remaining from the disease that had struck the dragons appeared to have worsened slightly, probably a secondary infection from the cuts and scrapes. Poultices were put on the hot, inflamed wounds and seemed to give some comfort.

By the fifth sevenday after the disastrous flight, Kirenth was healing enough to get up and walk, albeit rather jerkily on three legs, the shattered foreleg dangling, and more green gold than pure gold. It didn't hurt, so all the healers could assume was that it had nerve damage and some circulation loss. More cheering however, was the fact that unmistakable bumps were showing through the skin of the Queen's belly. Nilmaramen spent hours stroking them along with Janera, and weyrfolk whispered how nice it was that Nilmaramen could still be around a dragon, and that he didn't sit in his weyr like other riders who had lost dragons. He seemed to be making a marvellous recovery, although the offer of a firelizard egg was turned down by him.

He and Janera were crouched by the great Gold's belly together. She looked over at him, overwhelmed by love, and the fact he had chosen to stay with her. She would still help him at any point he asked, but for now she could bask in his love. He looked over at her, her feelings seemingly reflected in his eyes, and grinned. "From what I can count, there are around 12 eggs in here" He stroked Kirenth, patting at an itchy scar so she sighed with pleasure and shifted position, nearly crushing them in the process. Startled she looked down and blinked _I am sorry dear ones_ she said, sighing slightly _I am a bit off balance today, I just feel tired_ She nuzzled at the two people; Nilmaramen had grown as dear to her as her rider. He had become a person to protect, he had no dragon to protect him, and he went off into trances at times and needed watching. Something about those trances alarmed the Queen, but it could only be normal. The healers didn't seem worried.

She coulld sense something though when he went into those trances. Something almost evil in it's intensity, but still with a loving touch. She had told her rider about one episode, where she felt the presence almost touching her, and certainly looking at her. Janera had hugged the great head; stroking the cleft in her dragon's head, the skin there hadn't healed as well as it could, and had left a dent in the hide. _Dear one, it's probably pre clutching nerves. It will all be better once you clutch and can mother eggs_ She turned to Nilmaramen, shocked for a moment by the intensity of his gaze as he looked at the Gold, then smiled as his expression lifted. "She said she felt something here... Silly girl, she gets like this with all of her clutches. She'll be fine once she lays and can fuss them" Nilmaramen smiled back. "I am sure she will be fine" He stroked the Gold's side, his face closed once more as he appeared to retreat inwards.

**Chapter Eight: Deceptions Cunning**

Later that evening, Nilmaramen sat in his weyr in the dark. His body was wracked with shudders as he cried. "I can't keep this up much longer Gar. I just can't. Why can't I join you now?" The Voice was there, it was just quiet, angry by the feel of things. "I can do it now, we can be together NOW. Why must I wait? Let them be, she looks after me, and her dragon. She loves me too. Why can't w..." He was cut off mid word by The Voice.

Shaking with anger it roared through his head. _WHY? WHY? Because we have spent all this time apart to gain revenge, and now you want to back out! She does not love you. _The Voice shuddered with disgust, rising to a scream in his head before becoming piteous, pleading. _**I** love you. I miss you; I am trapped here, lost until you join me. But first SHE must pay._ The Voice snarled through his head._ You will do this; I will not be denied my final triumph over the Queen and Rider who killed me. _Nilmaramen lowered his head. Garmeth was talking to him, but it seemed to him that it wasn't HIS Garmeth. This Gar...well, he was crazy! Could he really be trusted? For the first time in a while, Nilmaramen hesitated. His Gar would never wish hurt on anyone, let alone his mate. For a full hand of time, he looked into the fire, The Voice momentarily blocked out, but pleading to come back in, so heartrendingly upset, that he had no choice but to let it back in. Gar's presence flooded him again, calmer now and pleading.

_As soon as Kirenth clutches, be prepared. I will call to her, tell her I am lost. You must cut the straps of the dragon that her rider will use to come find me. She will be lost, and it will be a few sevendays after that we will be joined again. _A feeling of triumph flooded The Voice and Nilmaramen then. He was filled with a new resolve. Any momentary sanity he had felt was swept away by the now loving Voice that caressed him. They would be together at last, the last blurred sevendays would be a dream and he would be whole again. His heart leapt with anticipation, and for a moment he thought he would go then, but he held back. Revenge would be theirs. A sly grin on his face, he lay down on the cot, planning the events to come.

**Chapter Nine: Hopes Reborn**

Three days after his conversation, Nilmaramen was woken by a reverberating low hum. It was still dark out, so he turned the glow so he could see his way to the ledge. Looking out, he could see straight into the hatching grounds, Kirenth was there! And by the flapping and humming she was laying too! Dragging some clothes on, he ran down the steps to the ground and from there into the hatching grounds, as flushed with excitement as the rest of the weyr. In that flash of excitement, he was lucid again. There would be eggs, he could stay and help. The crazed voice of his dragon could be tuned out... Just then, a pair of candidates entered to watch, and he was hit by the realization he would have to relive Gar's Impression. His heart clenched tight in anguish, and he realized it would be impossible. He would have to carry on with the plan. Just then a bugle of hope and joy rose from the dragons around the rim of the hatching grounds.

Looking over, he saw that the first egg had been deposited into the sand. From the colour and size, it would be a Bronze. He sat on a bench in sheer desolation at the thought, feeling Gar closer to him than ever in the last few sevendays, strengthening him and he got to his feet in time to watch another egg added, a Green or Blue by the look of it. Over the next few hands of time, 12 eggs were laid, roughly 2 of which were Bronze, Green, Blue and Brown were pretty equal. Kirenth settled to prod her eggs around, licking at some that seemed almost squashed. A sigh went up. A small clutch and no Queen egg. The weyrfolk were trickling out of the hatching grounds when Nilmaramen saw Kirenth rise up again, wings beating the air and straining. Her useless foreleg dangled, swaying as she thrashed in pain, and knocking two of the new laid eggs into each other. The Weyr groaned as one, one looked to now be leaking. Kirenth screamed in pain, and then strained once more, expelling the egg, and slumped to the ground, breathing heavily, the egg hidden.

Janera rushed to her Queen's head, scratching at her eyeridges and talking to her quietly. Kirenth lifted her head and nudged her rider back. Turning her head to reposition the egg, she pushed it to the front of the clutch. With bated breath, the weyr waited, not daring to make any conclusions as the Queen slowly brought it round. The collective held breaths of the weyr were expelled in a soft sigh as the egg came into view, followed by a roar of pure triumph as the egg caught the light, glinting gold as it moved. The dragons joined in the roar. A new Queen egg! A lot larger than usual and the reason behind the almost empty egg that had leaked itself almost dry from the rent in the as yet soft shell. So, the clutch of thirteen was now twelve, but there was a Queen egg, the future or Pern looked bright again.

Every person in the weyr was now smiling and chattering, all except for Nilmaramen, who was now staring at the Queen and her rider as they took strength from one another, the Queen with her tail wrapped round her eggs and her nose encircled in her rider's arms. There they were, together, and he was alone. Hatred rose in him, roiling and bubbling until he thought he would burst with it. At the height of his hatred, Garmeth was there in his mind. _Soon. We will act soon. A little time for her to get attached to the eggs... _The Voice broke off with a feeling of such glee that Nilmaramen was left breathless, it was nearly time. Soon, revenge would be theirs.

**Chapter Ten: Berefts Revenge**

The dragonhealer scratched his head, unsure of how to tell the Weyrwoman what he knew. It was a sevenday after the clutching, and the eggs were hardening nicely. That was good news. Kirenth's wounds were healed, her wings strait and the wing tissue regenerating well. THAT was good news also. She would probably be capable of flight in a turn, IF, and only if, they could work out what to do with her leg. The foreleg was now dark green and cold to the touch, it was useless and shrivelled and really was nothing more than a burden. There was also a disturbing smell starting to emanate from it. He was worried that it would harm the Queen, but the sheer size of her was making amputation a very risky idea. With a sigh, he turned to the Weyrwoman, bowing before he spoke.

"All is well apart from that leg Janera. I am afraid it is now dead, and I am worried that it may cause problems with her at some point. It appears to be alright for now, but in the future it may well get infected, and if that happens, it will need to be amputated, which is a huge risk in a dragon her size. The bleeding is almost impossible to stop, and it's also a huge job, requiring a full team of people, and it's a big enough injury that she may well _Between_ from the pain of it" he sighed, "That is why we would rather wait."

Janera looked at the healer, aghast, this could not be happening! She hadn't doomed another being to pain and suffering through her own selfishness had she? She stepped backwards, hands outstretched as if to fend off the accusations. The soothing presence of Kirenth flowed through her. _I love you, I am glad I stayed. And even if we DO go, there will be my daughter to carry on for Pern._ Janera could almost see her licking the huge Queen egg lovingly, and smiled as her fears were chased away. She was loved, and she had HAD to keep Kirenth, Pern would have been doomed if she had gone _Between_. At least this way, Pern had a chance. She started to the hatching grounds, her pace speeded by the sudden scream of mixed hope and anguish that echoed from the sands.

_**Garmeth! **He is alive! You MUST go find him. GARMETH! We are coming! He is at the plains of Keroon Janera, fly to him, and go NOW! He is badly injured._ The scream echoed through the heads of everyone in the weyr, causing several to cover their ears at the volume of it. Nilmaramen was prepared however. Running into the nearest Green weyr, he grabbed the leathers hanging on a peg there. Working quickly, he put several small cuts in the straps that would be most strained by the second rider, and ran from the weyr, grabbing the first Greenrider he found and dragging him to his dragon, helping to throw the straps on and tighten them, the Green standing still and solid at the feel of panic surrounding her.

"JARENA" shouted Nilmaramen, "HERE!" He waved her to the Greenrider, helping her on and strapping her in. "Go get him. I can't..." he sobbed. "Not on another dragon" he crumpled to the floor. Janera looked down at him as the Green launched herself into the air. "We will bring him back safe for you my love" She clutched convulsively at the straps as they stretched, screaming as one snapped, too late to alert the rider, who sent his Green _Between_ to the co-ordinates that Janera had shown his dragon, not noticing the dangerously leaning passenger, and not hearing the scream of terror from the hatching grounds. His Green heard the keening as she want _Between _and tried to swing round to catch the falling rider. Her scream of terror and pain mingled with the wild howling of the Queen as she, her rider and the Weyrwoman fell into _Between _and were lost forever.

Nilmaramen ran to the hatching ground in a group of weyrfolk, just as panicked as they in case the pain wracked Queen went _Between_ and stranded the eggs. Kirenth was writhing on the floor, screaming and keening in desolation, tail narrowly missing the eggs as she thrashed on the floor. No amount of cajoling from the dragons or people could calm her enough to explain the danger to the eggs. She was too distraught, and the only thing that calmed her was her tail hitting one of the eggs, sending it rolling across the sands to crash into the wall, denting it, but not cracking the leathery shell. She stopped her writhing at this, and with a cry of sorrow, launched herself over the eggs to the lone one against the wall, prodding and pushing it back to the others. Upon reaching them, she nudged them all together and curled round them, eyes gleaming dull red and orange as she stared at the weyrfolk surrounding her. _I will stay until my daughter is hatched, then I will go._ She closed her eyes, and the weyrfolk left the hatching grounds, all except Nilmaramen. He would stay with her till she left, and he would go with her.

The Queen opened her eyes, staring dully at him. _You have done this. It is hard, why do you stay with me. It must be harder for you. It has been so long for you and Gar..._ Her head snapped up. _He spoke to me, but he is gone...How did I hear him? Can you?_ She looked closer at Nilmaramen, eyes whirling red faster as he didn't speak straight away. T_ell me how he does it. I want to speak to my Janera._ Nilmaramen looked up, tears brimming in his eyes as he realized, Garmeth wasn't talking to him from beyond _Between_, it had all been him. His head clear at last for the first time since his love Gar had slipped _Between_, he realized what he had done, the Voice in his head, The voice that Kirenth had heard. it had been him. He had nearly doomed Pern through his madness. He burst into desolate sobs as Kirenth realised what he had done and let out a low moan, shaking his bones with the intensity. Closing her eyes, she stretched her nose out to him, grabbing his tunic with her teeth, and bringing him into the circle of her eggs. Forgiven, he grabbed her head and clung to it, one drawing strength from another, the man who had killed his love and the dragon who had killed her rider sending her on a hopeless mission.

**Chapter Eleven: Desolation Found**

Every day for the next three sevendays, Nilmaramen oiled and brushed the Queen he had made riderless, helping her to turn her eggs, bathing the withered foreleg, applying numbweed to it and to her wing that she had cracked again diving forwards to try and save her rider. She would let no one else in the hatching grounds, bar the candidates, who clustered in small groups around the eggs, exclaiming over the poor dents in the one that had been catapulted into the wall, and wondering about the Queen egg, the last hope for Pern.

Kirenth would spend hours testing the eggs, resting her chin on them to feel the hatchlings moving, licking them to check the temperature, and one day, two sevendays after Janera, rolling away one of the assumed Bronze eggs, which rattled as it rolled, hitting the wall and shattering to reveal the desiccated remains of a tiny Bronze hatchling. He was taken _Between _and left there, another victim of the disastrous mating flight. The remaining 11 eggs were deemed satisfactory, and were spaced evenly to harden fully, with less than a sevenday to go until they hatched.

Nilmaramen and Kirenth woke early the morning of the hatching. They had both heard the muffled chirps and keens from the eggs, and now they were starting to rock slightly. They went from egg to egg, turning them, and generally checking to see they were all viable still. To their great relief, the Queen egg was the most vigorous, wobbling more as the morning progressed. Just before lunchtime, one of the Green eggs gave a convulsive leap, prompting Kirenth to start humming. Within a few breaths, people were pouring into the hatching grounds, candidates standing in little groups round the eggs as they heaved and wobbled. The first egg shattered, and a fine Bronze staggered from its egg, raising his head to his mother first, then to his Bondmate. _M'ror I am your Gireth I need food. _The newly chosen boy staggered to the Bronze, cradling his head and sobbing with joy. Beside the Gold, Nilmaramen sobbed out his pain and sorrow, and in turn the Gold keened, the sound mixing in with the hum to create a sense of melancholy.

The eggs continued to hatch out, all partnering off, until there were three eggs. All eyes turned to the Queen egg, and as if on cue, it shattered, and a Gold hatchling fell to the floor. A cheer rose and then fell into a horrified hush as the hatchling stood. Tattered stumps sprouted from its back, and its spine was humped. It's too large head swayed from the too thin neck, and it creeled in pain and surprise as its overlarge eyes were blinded by the light. Everyone heard its mental scream for it's chosen. **_Mirena! Where are you? I feel you but I do not hear you! MINE? I need you!_** With an anguished scream that tore at the hearts of all there, it blundered forwards, trampling the girl called Mirena as it did so, severely wounding her, then creeling wildly, did the same to the group of girls that had been clustered round the Queen egg.

Blinded, deaf, both physically and mentally, she called again, being answered by her mother. People were clustering round the hatchling, trying to soothe her, she was the only Queen on Pern now, Kirenth would suicide with the eggs hatched and gone. With an outraged bellow, the great Gold Queen grabbed hold of Nilmaramen, launching herself to the hatchling, chasing away the people who would molest her young. Eyes red, tail thrashing, she stood over the deformed hatchling, nose touching it to keep it calm until the last eggs hatched and Impressed. As the last Green chose her boy, she raised her head, hissing at the weyrfolk until they backed off.

She nudged the hatchling reassuringly, then, releasing Nilmaramen so he could climb to her back, she grabbed the little Gold, who was fading fast, snarled at the Weyrfolk and _Betweened_, the cries of horror and panic of the weyrfolk drowned by the keening of the dragons. Pern's death knell. No reproducing Queens, no hope of any more clutches. Pern was doomed.

**Chapter Twelve: Desolation Builds**

The hatching grounds fell silent, the weyrfolk and dragons struck dumb by the disaster which had just occurred. All the dragons of Pern had keened their loss and fear; even the watchdragons at the Holds, dragons which even now were conveying Lords and Ladies to Benden weyr. Slowly, dragons appeared in the air landing where they could, filling the weyr and giving the illusion that there was a healthy population once again. A murmur started up as Lord Minos from Benden hold landed and spoke. "So, why are we here?" he looked round at the other Holders and the riders, a grin on his face. "Why did the dragon at my hold set up that racket? The eggs have hatched?" He beamed around t everyone, the smile fading as he saw the tears on faces, the look of utter hopelessness on the faces of the riders, and then turned as a new hatchling creeled from the hatching grounds. There, plain to see was the shell of Gold, but no Gold hatchling wobbled with a new rider. Shock pulling at his face, he grinned again, uncertainty and fear showing. "What...Why...Who is in charge? And what is going on?"

A general shuffling broke out amongst the Bronzeriders, and a pair stepped forwards. The elder of the two spoke. "We have been running things that needed looked after" he said, striding forwards with hand outstretched to greet Lord Minos. The Lord held out his hand, grasping the Bronzerider's hand firmly then releasing it as he stepped back. The rider spoke again. "I am R'kin, and this is my brother M'ril."The eggs have hatched yes, but we have not had the expected outcome" he looked round at the new Weyrling pairs and sighed. "The Queen hatched, but was so badly deformed..." he gulped, revulsion crossing his face. "We tried to keep her here, to see if she would at least Impress, we could at least hope to get her bred someway, her wings may have grown..." he sighed, sorrow crossing his face. "Kirenth flew to guard her. She had Nilmaramen with her. She chased away the people trying to calm her, and as soon as the last egg hatched, she snatched her up, and the three went Between. They didn't return..." he broke, sobbing, the shock of the day catching up.

M'ril took over then, waving a pair of Greenriders to take his brother to his weyr, his dragon following anxiously behind him. Calling for quiet, he looked at the crowd until  
they all calmed and were listening quietly. He took a deep breath, this was the hardest thing he was ever going to have to say, and he didn't really want to say it. He strode to a small platform used to instruct weyrlings, and spoke, quailing inside at his words, he began.

"There is no way for the dragons to reproduce. There are currently three hundred dragons capable of fighting thread; thread could start anytime from now. The Red Star was bracketed in the Star Stones this morning. It is at least two turns earlier than our predictions, so we are in deep trouble. Even if we WERE at full strength, we wouldn't last long. We are officially calling all the dragons together at Benden, there will be one weyr, and that weyr will endeavour to protect Pern as long as we can" His head dropped to his chest for a moment, and his shoulders convulsed. Lifting his head, he spoke a final time. "We have let all Pern down; all we can do is fight until our end. That is our best. Now, if you would like a ride back to your holds, we can oblige. If there are any questions, please, ask away"

An immediate uproar started, all the Lords and Ladies, and some of the riders, all clamouring for attention. The loudest shouted question was by Lord Rinas. "How will the holds be defended when... well, in the future? There are fifty turns of threadfall, and sorry rider, but to be blunt you won't last for fifty turns" He lifted his chin aggressively, glaring at those beside him who were whispering and glaring at him. "I only ask because we need to know. The rider will admit they won't last that long" he stared up at M'ril, awaiting an answer.

M'ril stepped forward, flanked by a full wing of riders, HIS wing to be precise. Proudly, he raised his head. "We will do our best to find a way to save your holds. But we need your help now. You must go and clear all your fields harvest your crops. If they aren't ready now, there should be a few sevendays before the first fall. Do your best to be clear by the end of the second sevenday, anything standing after that will be flamed to the ground. There are too few riders to defend all Pern and the less to defend the better for everyone" He raised his hand to forestall argument. "You must all go now, we have little time"

Talking amongst themselves, the Holders mounted their hold dragons and took off, leaving the weyr in peace. M'ril stepped back, turning to the weyrlings straggling out of the hatching grounds and smiling reassuringly at them. The poor things must have heard everything that was said, and indeed the new bondmate of the only Bronze in the clutch was gripping onto his soulmate's neck, tears rolling down his face as he walked to M'ril. "We are all going to die, aren't we? I don't want my Gireth to die" M'ror sobbed, he was one of the youngest M'ril remembered, and looked up at the hand on his shoulder. "We are all going to die someday, it is a fact of life, and if you look at it as an ending to pain and suffering, it doesn't seem that bad now does it" The Bronze weyrling looked up at him, tears shining on his face, but a little calmer. Looking down at Gireth, he smiled. "Gireth says he is not worried about death. He just wants his bed" he sniffed, and then headed off to the weyrling barracks with his sleepy dragonet.

M'rin watched him, and the other tired pairs heading off. He smiled up at his Rineth on the cliff and then looked down at the riders clustered at his feet. "Riders, we must prepare. You are all to return to your weyrs, get all your belongings and return. We will all live here from now until...well, we will live here. We still have heated pools" and he grinned at the sighs from some of the older riders "And we have space to accommodate you all. We will stand united until the end, and we will defend the holds as best we can. Wing drills begin in earnest tomorrow" He grinned in pride as a roar broke from the throats of the riders. They would do their best to fight this!

**Chapter Thirteen: Braverys Sacrifice**

Three days after the disastrous hatching, and the sky above Benden weyr was filled with dragons. Swooping, diving and flaming, all in perfect formation. M'ril looked back at his wing with pride; they were all flying well, except for one of the Greens... Concerned, he called for the practice to end, asking Rineth to call the Green in for an exam; all riders had to be fit. As they reached the ground he saw the Green and her rider, the Green with her head hanging low, and her hide greying. Alarmed, M'ril jumped from Rineth as they hit the ground, running to the rider and dragon. As he got closer, he could see the dragon gasping for breath, her neck extended, eyes whirling. He reached them, and for a moment searched for the awful bubbling noise he could hear, before realising it was the Green. She was thrashing her tail in panic now, catching a candidate who ran behind her with some water, sending him across the bowl at some speed, to smash into one of the weyrling mounting blocks and crumple to the floor. She moaned in horror at what she had done, then coughed, sending droplets of ichor flying through the air. M'ril ran to the Green's chest listening to her breathing, it was dreadfully laboured, but seemed to be easing now, he neck was not as extended, and she was not gasping as much.

Gesturing some riders to go help the candidate, M'ril called the dragonhealer over. "What do you think of this Tiren?" he pointed to the still grey Green, her eyes slowing now, but the bubbling still very much audible. Eyes narrowed, the healer moved to the Green, who moved her head to watch him as he listened to her breathing. He stepped back and walked to M'ril. "She will be fine now, but we need to have a chat somewhere quiet. There is a free weyr back here" he walked to the weyr, looking back at the Green as she brightened up and nuzzled at her rider. They reached the weyr and he turned. "She will not be able to fight thread. Overexertion has caused vessels in her lungs to burst, more strenuous excursive could make it a lot worse. She and her rider can carry firestone sacks, but no more than that, or you will be a rider down very soon"

M'ril looked out at the Green who now breathing normally, he'd never believe that she had looked close to death a scant handspan of time ago. He turned back to the dragonhealer. "Are you sure? She looks fine now..." He wavered, looking at the pair, calling over to them. "You had better get off to your weyr now. I'll drop in and see you soon" He tapped his fingers off the wall as they started towards their weyr. With a rueful sigh, he shrugged one shoulder in recognition of the healer's authority. He may be more or less in charge of the weyr, but he couldn't endanger dragons. Look where ignoring the dragonhealers led to, no weyrleaders, no Queen... He closed his eyes, fighting back the panic he could feel rising. "Is there any chance you can check the rest of the dragons out? We better make sure they are healthy before thread comes" He looked out at the ranked dragons and riders awaiting orders and half smiled. Only a few may be left, but they were so beautiful, hides gleaming in the sun, well cared for. His smile faded, to be replaced by horror as he envisioned those ranks after thread, blackened wounds, ichor leaking from them, the cries and moans of riders injured. Dragons keening as lifemates and wingmates went Between. He shuddered. The old skins were too graphic. The account of the wingscored dragon was still fresh in his head after the previous night's reading. Shaking his head, M'ril walked out to the wings amassed in the bowl, Tiren with him. The dragonhealer headed to his fellow healers, explaining to them and hurrying them to the dragons, a healer to ten dragons.

"Well done all of you" M'ril said, grinning at the riders. "You all should be proud of yourself. No mistakes, no one broke position. But, don't get too ahead of yourselves" he said, as he noticed some of the riders smirking amongst themselves. "It will be different in a real threadfall. I have read the records. You probably should too, it may take the edge off your attitude" This last was directed at a grinning Brownrider, who plainly couldn't get it into his head. "Over confidence can lead to injury. Would you like to see your..." The name Kigath was inserted into his head by Rineth, and thanking the dragon he carried on. "...Kigath scored? Have you read of the injuries a dragon can sustain due to over confidence?" He looked on as the now shaken Brownrider shook and lowered his head. He walked back to the front of the riders and turned, gesturing to the healers. "Your dragons will be examined now, we will do this after every practice, and today you will learn how to apply numbweed to large scores " Nodding to the healers, M'ril walked to Rineth, waiting anxiously as the healers checked over the dragons, sighing in relief as only four dragons were pulled out, two Browns and a Green and Blue. Their riders were being spoken to by the healers. M'ril looked over until he noticed his brother's Nimenth being checked over very carefully. He watched in worry as three of the healers now clustered round the Bronze, listening to the breathing, checking the eyes, feeling the strong Bronze legs. Finally, one of the healers nodded and all three stepped back, smiling at R'kin. The younger rider slumped in relief then grinned over at M'ril, "He's ok!" he called, "Now keep a check on yours!" M'ril turned to see the healers with his dragon.

Tiren smiled over at M'rin. "He'll do!" he called "There are only four that we think should be grounded from heavy work, less than expected" He strode to the other healers and turned to face the riders. "Now comes the messy bit. There are enough healers at the weyr, but you being able to help will do us all well" The older and younger riders were assembled with the others now, all listening attentively. "You need to grab the bucket and large brush, and just slather it on. As thick as you can, don't worry about being gentle, the sooner you get it on, the sooner the pain stops" He had a brush and bucket, and was slapping what looked to be water onto a Bronze wing as he spoke, the dragon looking on with curiosity as he was covered. "Right, everyone have a try, you'll soon get the hang of it" Tiren and one of his apprentices walked to M'ril smiling as they approached. "It looks like they all will do fine. Even in the face of certain failure" He looked over the riders, listening to the sound of laughter mixing in with the brush strokes and sighed. Life seemed so good now, fears of the future forgotten in play.

A sigh breaking from him, M'ril grabbed up a brush, dipping it into the water pail near him and running it across his Bronze's wing. Rineth gave a great sigh as the water soothed an itch he hadn't known was there. Turning his great head to his rider, he huffed warm air over M'ril, crooning in the back of his throat. I love you M'ril. We will do well, and fight thread as well as we can He snorted as he drew the image of himself and M'ril laid on the floor, both scored and bloody, and surrounded by other dragons, all scored and shrieking in pain. Giving his withers a shake, he cast out the image, knocking his rider to the floor with his nose and resting his chin on the floor near his feet. If you think like that we are both doomed. Think well will happen and it will He snorted again, lifting dust at M'ril's feet as he did so. M'ril sat up, shocked at his dragon's actions, and looked around him at the others near him. All were still busy with their brushes, so he climbed to his feet and started brushing again, lost in thought. Rineth was right, he had to be positive. It was the only way to look ahead.

The healers called a halt to the practice before it turned into a free-for-all water fight, grinning as they looked around; there were several weyrlings, and indeed older riders who were wetter than their dragons. Tiren stepped to the front of the dragon healers, nodding at the riders gathered before him. "You have all done well today, you all clearly know the basics of slathering, and also the basics of a good water fight" He grinned at a few of the weyrlings, who were looking rather shamefaced, and then continued. "Tomorrow, we will be learning how to splint broken wings and how to stitch dragons" He held up a hand to stop the protests from a few riders. "Yes, there are a lot of healers, but it really does pay to know a bit of healing, especially as we are expecting out first fall. We are all a bit out of practice with injuries of that type" He nodded again to the riders, then to M'ril, then as a group the healers turned and walked to the caverns. M'ril looked over his riders, pride in them and their attitude pushing worry to the back of his mind. A grin appearing on his face, he shouted to all gathered there. "Well done! Right, we are all wet, let's get changed, and we will go practice flying in formation again!" There was a mass rush for the weyrs, and the air was filled with happy chattering, just like before the virus had struck.

**Chapter Fourteen: Promises Broken**

Lord Miren of Ista Hold stood on the deck of The_ Wind Racer _and looked at the massed fleets in the bay, over four hundred people in those ships, including people from other holds. They were heading for the South; there were rumours about grubs, almost like the Igen sandworms, that protected the planet from Thread. The riders couldn't hope to protect them adequately; the holders would have to take their lives into their own hands. He sighed, he and his had always supported the dragonriders and it felt like a betrayal to leave like this, but this was the only option available to them, he had promised his people they would find safety, and find safety they would. The watch dragon had been recalled to the Weyr to attend some flight practice, and now was the perfect time to go, he was expected to be away all day and that would give them a good head start, the ships had been packed for a week now, starting the day of the disastrous hatching. With one last look at the hold, Miren waved his hand to start the ships moving, watching the coastline slowly start to fade behind them. He and his Steward Karem watched until the hold was all but gone, then Miren spoke. "Karem, we have a strong wind behind us, we should make it to the Southern continent by the end of the sevenday if all goes well, I need you to take stock of the food we have and work out rations for all the people on board. With all luck we have enough to see us through"

Karem nodded, and headed off towards the stern and the cargo holds, avoiding a pair of running children as she did so. Twenty seven turns old, she was still as beautiful as she had been at seventeen turns if not more, and standing at 5 foot 10 inches, she was an impressive woman. Her two major flaws were an inability to speak, and a tendency to be hard to please. She wanted the best from those working for her, and usually got it. She reached the food stores, looking firmly at an adolescent pair hanging round that area of the ship and motioning them away. The pair slunk away, probably to another dark corner she thought to herself, and she opened the food store's door. Tantalising odours drifted out to her, dried fish and meat, grain, sweetstuffs, and the tang of wines and fruit juices. She walked up the alleyways between cartons of food, marking off amounts onto her leaf and counting in her head how long each would last. Satisfied, she nodded and left, closing and locking the door behind her before going to find Lord Miren.

She found him at the wheel with the captain, and with a half curtsey and a cheeky grin handed him the list, ducking as he laughed and swatted at her. "You cheeky little so and so..." he exclaimed, grinning all over his face at the mischievous Steward. He had just employed her two turns back at the recommendation of the Head Woman, and the girl made him smile, a much needed thing for an old man in these times. He sent her off with the crèche leader, they needed an extra hand, and Karem was loved by children. He looked forward, realizing that Captain Jerim was looking intently towards the horizon. "There's a storm brewing over there" he said, looking back to Miren, worry flitting across his face, "And from the looks of it, it's going to be a bad one" Miren looked to where the captain pointed, drawing in a breath as he saw the dark grey almost black cloud that was noticeably growing closer and larger. "I'd better head down to see the passengers, warn them there may be rough weather ahead" Waving his thanks to Captain Jerim, he left the wheel and headed towards the passenger's quarters.

The _Star Chaser_ was running behind the main body of the ship. The most heavily laden of the ships, she was carrying over five hundred herdbeasts and assorted other animals and also her fair share of people. Low in the water, she was only keeping up because of the huge sails she had. Fully twice the size of the other ships, she had sails equally as large, gigantic white billowing sheets that dwarfed any of the other ships. Captain Rennar was down in the holds with the Master Beastcrafter, both leaning on a pen door, watching the runner beasts inside. There were a dozen of them thrashing and milling around and each one was lathered in sweat and in one case blood, probably from a burst blood vessel in her nose. They were not the only animals to be panicking, the ship rang with the terrified calls of distressed animals and there seemed to be no explanation for it at all. The Master Beastcrafter, a wiry grey haired man named Tilom, walked from that pen to another. The pedigree haulage beasts that he had raised from calves were collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily through distended and reddened nostrils, eyes staring and full of panic. His shoulders heaved only once as he entered the pen, walking amongst the downed beasts, touching a shoulder here, a soft nose there. Sixteen were in that pen, and all looked to be severely ill from stress, one too far gone to be recovered by the look of it, she was laid out on her side, legs weakly pedalling in an attempt to run from her fears. Looking up, he spoke to Captain Rennar, tears glistening in his eyes as he gestured around the beast pens at the terrified animals inside. "I have never seen animals behave like this unless in the midst of a severe storm, there is something wrong, they shouldn't he having this bad a time travelling, at least not all of them" He looked helplessly around him, this and the other three decks were one and the same, and the rising cacophony was almost painful to hear, at least to him having grown up around beasts of all kinds. He had even had a firelizard many years ago, one of the last before the virus wiped them out. He was starting to feel stirrings of panic now, the emotions of the holds affecting him, and starting to build now. He looked at the Captain, pleading to him with his eyes for help.

Rennar looked down at the man on the floor with the huge draft animals, each at least twice the length of him, and bulging with muscle, all that muscle and strength useless now in their panic, stress had almost totally incapacitated them. He leaned over, patting the man on the shoulder. "I'll go see what it looks like above, maybe there is a storm brewing" He turned and jogged lightly up the stairs, reaching the top deck barely out of breath. He had no sooner looked at the horizon when a strange feeling of horror spread through him. The beasts were panicked for a reason; a great black cloud was spread across the horizon, heading right for them. They had another hour until it hit by the looks of things, just enough time to get everything fastened down and safe for the inevitable bashing the ship would take. He shouted to the lad in the crows nest to signal the other ships, telling them to lash everything down and get the passengers settled in their cabins, they looked to be in for a rough ride. He headed back to the beastholds, stopping halfway down the stairs and calling to Tilom. "Better get them as comfortable as you can, we are in for a bad blow by the looks of things"

He ran back up the stairs, hearing the shipfish squeeing and splashing. Only then did he realize that it was too quiet, the sea was calm and there was no wind. They were stranded in the middle of the sea, with no land in sight, and most likely too far from land to be seen by any riders that may be returning to Ista Hold, and to make matters worse, there was only a couple of hours till dusk. He looked at the cloud that was boiling towards them at a much faster pace than he had previously expected, it was nearing the fore runners already. With the storm came a blast of wind, enough for him to set his sails and try to run to the side of it. Thick and fast the cloud was, but there was a definite channel of cloud, maybe they could outrace it, riding on the wind of its passage. Turning the sails, the crew watched as they filled with wind, and at a speed that was new for that ship, they surged forward, accompanied by a group of shipfish who surfed in the bow wave, their squeeing almost sounding relieved as the ship ran forwards. They may just miss this squall, although there would be a few moments where they would probably be caught in the edge of this storm, a few minutes at the most. A sigh of relief bursting from him, Rennar glanced back; momentarily shocked at the fact he could no longer see the other ships in the sheets of rain that clouded them. Funny, he mused; I haven't seen rain this thick before... Idle speculation turned to horror as screams drifted to him, that was no storm! This was Threadfall, and they were trapped in the open! He called to his men to get the flamethrowers ready, even at the speed at which they were moving, the Thread was moving faster, they would be caught!

The Captain of The _Moon Tracker _was shocked as he looked up from his charts, he had seen the storm brewing, but as his weather sense caught no tinges, he wasn't worried, it must be too far away to worry. Suddenly, the storm was ready to overtake his ship. The clouds swirled overhead, menacing and dark, yet still no tinge of storm warning. He looked forward to The _Wind Racer_ and saw everyone bustling round. The same for the other ships in the massed fleets, all except the beast ship, which had turned sideways to the path of the storm. Lucky for him all his cargo was safely battened down, his was a transport ship, not a passenger ship. He looked up at the _Wind Racer _again, jumping to his feet as he realised he could no longer see it, and that a great wall of rain was heading for him. He screamed in panic as he realized the awful truth, then again in pain as the first of the Threads seared across his unprotected face, burning a bloody track across it and leaving a ruined mess from which one eye stared frantically as the Threads descended onto his ship, burning and eating the polished wooden decks and searing through to the decks below. His sight was abruptly cut off as a clump of Thread descended on him, his last sight being the ruined smoking decks of his beloved ship. Pain whipped through him, and his ears rang with the screams of his fellow crewmates rang in his ears as he sank to the deck, landing on the wood as a lifeless ruined carcase.

Jerim was watching the storm approach, it had gained speed, and now the cloud was a dense grey, reaching from sky to water in what looked to be a solid wall. A hint of unease danced at the corner of his mind, that cloud, it seemed unnatural, no cloud he has seen came onwards in an almost straight channel, and this one was definitely doing that. People were bustling round getting the ship safe, better to ride this storm out then turn and risk being taken broadside, and that required everything to be lashed down tight, flying cargo could be more dangerous than a storm. The cloud was less then a couple of dragonlengths from them now, and the rain was so heavy it looked like a silver curtain, he looked at the wall of rain advancing with a hint of awe tinged with fear, it was so strange to him. He turned to shout some orders to his crew and turned back to the wheel. The cloud was less than a dragonlength away now, and the awe faded, to be replaced by a mind numbing horror. Thread... his arms fell limply to his sides, all animation drained from him in his fear. He had sailed his crew and the inhabitants of Ista hold to their doom.

Unmoving he watched as the first Threads hissed down onto the deck, sizzling as they his small puddles left on the decks by chains that were attached to the anchors, a few burning their way through the decks. Faint screams drifted up to him, quickly joined by his own as Thread began to fall fully, demolishing the roof above him in moments. His legs were suddenly wracked with pain, and he looked down in horror at the greyish Thread that was now waving from the bloody mess of his legs. Trying to stand, he lurched upright, only to be taken down by another thread that caught his left shoulder and disappeared down his arm. Laid face down on the deck he could do nothing but scream as he was hit by thread after thread, shock set in soon after that, and all went calm, he watched as if in slow motion as Lord Miren and his steward came running onto the deck, only to be taken down by a tangle of thread that tore viciously at them, until the badly wounded woman had the sense to tip over a water barrel onto them.

Mirel turned tortured eyes to Karem, his breath rattling in his throat. "I promised safety, I promised them, and I have failed... Can we warn the dragonriders? No, there is no way, all is lost for us" His voice failed him then, and Karem watched in mute agony, a tear rolling down her face as the old Lord gasped for breath, seeming to be successful, though the blue tinge that was spreading across his skin belied that fact. Moving her mangled body at an angle, Karem saw why. Thread had torn a great hole in Mirel's torso, exposing his insides, and revealing the bloody hole in his lungs. As she watched in horror, he tried to breathe again, falling back as he did so. A gasping bubbling noise came from him as he reached out a hand to Karem. In tears, she grabbed it, holding firm as his grip failed and he slumped to what was left of the deck. All around them screams of pain and horror rose, and in the midst of it, Karem opened her mouth and howled a soundless cry of grief, not seeing the thread clump descending oh her until it was too late. Bowled over by the strength of the hit, she was taken out immediately, Thread hitting her in the head and shoulders, a small mercy in that her death was fast. The smoking wreck of the ship was now taking on too much water, and slowly started to sink downwards, followed by the rest of the ships that were in the fleets.

All but one ship sank to the bottom of the sea, and that remaining ship, filled with lowing, bleating and screaming animals, barely escaped with her hull intact, the bravery of men with flamethrowers saving her as the trailing edge of Thread caught her. Rennar was in the beasthold with Tirom, watching as the man sobbed over the carcase of his runner, Thread had only killed three for them, two crewmembers and the runnerbeast that had been underneath the Thread that made it though the deck above. The poor mare had been struck by the tangle on her hindquarters, and Tirom had saved her and her fellow stallmates with the bucket of water he had thrown over her. She had, however, been too badly injured to save, and rather than leave her screaming in pain, she had been fellised to death, quicker and making it relatively painless. Standing, Rennar walked quietly to the stairs, hearing his footsteps echo in what had been only a scant half hour before total bedlam. He walked up the stairs and onto the deck, watching the side of the Threadfall as it swept by. They had turned parallel to the fall now, and he watched as the silver cloud swept by, almost beautiful in its deadliness. They stayed there for a further two hours, waiting for the fall to pass, to see if there were any further survivors. The fall moved on, and the few timbers that floated on the water showed the total decimation of the fleets that had previously been there. A lump in his throat, and tears coursing down his face, Rennar cried for the loss of his hold, friends and family. All he had left to him was a ship full of beasts. He would have to bring them safely home. Striding to the wheel of the ship, he turned her, heading back to Ista and the tentative safety that land provided. He must find a rider and tell of the horror that had happened today.

**Chapter Fifteen: Realization Strikes**

S'len and her Green Minith hovered over Ista hold, puzzled and worried. She had been sent back to watch here for the next sevenday, but she found no one here. Leaning down across her dragon's neck, she stared down at the abandoned Hold, ships gone from the bay and people gone from the land. A frown on her face she spoke to Minith. Take us down will you love, we should inspect this The Green looked back towards her rider, closing one eye in acknowledgement before veering to the left suddenly. Despite the situation S'len laughed out loud as they slipped sideways through the air. She loved being a rider, Minith was so fast and strong, and she loved her dearly. They levelled off now, Minith backwinging now, and lowering herself to her hind legs to land. They hit the ground with barely a bump and S'len thumped the smooth Green shoulder in admiration before dismounting. Minith snorted at her rider, nuzzling her gently as she hit the ground. _There is no one here. The people are gone._ She raised her head toward the Hold, bellowing a question to the Watchwher there, listening as it shrieked back, gibbering in panic. It said they left, and they fed it, and they are gone She snorted in disgust at the thing's incoherence, shaking her head

S'len grinned at the dragon's tone, she was affronted by Watchwher, they weren't smart enough for her liking, and she really didn't like having to talk to them at all. The Green pair walked towards the Hold proper, checking for any hint of life. Even most of the beasts were gone from the fields, bar a few of the elderly ones, and a small herd of runners, pregnant by the looks of things, and not the best looking or having the best conformation. S'len sighed, shaking her head as they walked past the grain sheds, empty too, all of it empty. They reached the main doors now, and they creaked in the breeze as they moved. Clearly the place had been abandoned, but for what reason? She looked back to her dragon who was now staring at the watchwher in its den, eyes half closed as she talked to it. S'len grinned; the poor thing would be useless for a week. Turning back to the table she was heading towards, something flapping in the breeze caught her eye. She strode to it and picked it up. A piece of well used hide drooped from her hand now, and she read it, brows drawing together in a frown as she did so. As she reached the end, her shoulders drooped, and she bespoke her dragon. _Please can you let M'ril and Rineth know that Ista have left. They sailed this morning, heading for the South. They do not wish to be followed, they are going to look after themselves._ She listened to Minith as she lifted her head and broadcast the message, hearing the dragon repeating it to herself first. She looked at her rider, _It is done Rineth is telling his rider now, we are to wait here for further instructions._ The Green sounded puzzled as she repeated the last, a good dragon; she wasn't the smartest but was friendly to make up for it. S'len grinned and walked out to her soulmate, rubbing the soft hide as she walked to the wedge shaped head. _We are to wait here dear one, in case they need us.  
_

Minith rumbled, _Well why didn't they just say that instead of talking like that?_ S'len laughed at the Green, _Rineth likes to talk like that though dear, you should know that one well after being weyrmated to him for five turns._ She looked up at the watchwher, from the sounds of it, the poor thing had been screaming since dawn, and it was dusk now. She moved a few steps closer, thinking thoughts of peace and calm at it, trying to soothe it. The large Gold wher looked at her, quietening momentarily and taking a step forward to the end of her chain. She creeled, a piteous sound, loss and sorrow evident in her and S'len was more impressed with that then any of the shrieking. The poor thing had been abandoned and knew it. With a sudden movement, it turned back to the interior of the den and stood staring out at the dragon and rider, the moments peace over, it looked at the horizon, blinking it's eyes rapidly to avoid the light and started shrieking again. Minith lowered her head to it, listening as it shrieked and tried to break free of its chains. _It is worried they will be harmed, it feels danger..._ The dragon's tone shifted to one of vague worry, and she lifted her head to look at the horizon, nostrils flaring in alarm as she saw the cloud that was heading towards land. **_THREAD_** she shrieked, bellowing as she called to the other dragons. **_Thread falls S'len, get on me, we must fight it._** S'len mounted the dragon as she danced with impatience, eyes red and whirling madly, but as she got her straps tight and Minith lifted into the air, the cloud dissipated, becoming a vague smear before disappearing entirely just as a full wing of dragons appeared in the air.

Leading the wing was M'ril and Rineth, and Minith streaked towards them, pulling up to hover in front of them. S'len pointed to where Thread had been. "It was over there, a grey cloud almost. That's the way the ships would have gone" She sagged onto her Green's neck as the realization sank in. M'ril looked seaward; there was nothing he could see there, but perhaps... "Come on wing, we need to look at this, to be sure no one was injured. S'len, fall in. We are going to check the ships" Looking back as the rest of his wing reformed, M'ril lifted his arm, dropping it as the last rider signalled readiness. As one the wing rose, heading out to sea. After a few hands of time, S'len called out, "Minith has spotted something to the west, she says it is a ship, but it looks to have no sails" M'ril asked Rineth to give the dragons the order to turn, and the wing headed towards the, now clearly distressed ship. Its sails hung in tatters, and there appeared to be a huge hole in the deck, all blackened and burned looking. Rineth dove down towards the ship, coming to a rest in the water beside it so his rider could speak with the captain.

Rennar walked to the bow of the ship, weariness showing in every movement. He saluted the bronze and his rider then spoke. "Thread did this. It wiped out the rest of the fleet" He sagged against the rail, struggling to regain his composure. "We sailed for the side of the cloud rather than trying to outrace it. We were hit but not as badly as we could have been. The sails are ruined, and we lost two crewmen and a runner, but otherwise are unscathed" He gestured behind the ship at the plainly empty sea, a few boards drifting in his wake. "That is all that remains of out fleet" Now he did break down, it was all too much to take in. M'ril watched the man as he sobbed. They would have to tow him back to shore. Bellowing an order to one of the crewmen to attend him, M'ril asked the plainly frightened girl to first find a quiet place for the captain, then to get as many lines as she could and tie them to the rails. They would tow them back to the mainland. Watching as the lines were tied tightly to the rails and the mast of the ship, M'ril spoke to the rest of the wing. "Now, we need to get this ship to another Hold, taking it to Ista would be pointless. Fort Seahold is the best option. Less of a trek from the harbour to the hold that way, and the way things look… Well, they could do with a speedy settling in" He watched as the captain was led away, and then gestured to the dragons to take up the ropes. A half wing of bronzes grabbed up the ropes, manoeuvring to be in front of the ship. At an order from M'ril, they then started forwards, pulling the ship behind them. It was a fairly short journey, made all the shorter by the dragons propelling the ship. S'len and Minith were sent ahead to warn the Lord Holder that a ship would soon be arriving, and to explain that ground crews must be readied.

Not relishing the fact that she must be the bearer of bad news, S'len nevertheless obeyed her wing leader, urging her dragon higher, she gave her a mental image of the Seahold, and they blinked between, arriving above the hold and spiralling down to the ground. Lord Keris met them as they landed, bowing deeply to the rider and her dragon. "You are most welcome here. To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?" He held out a hand to steady the Greenrider as she dropped down to the ground. S'len grabbed it as she landed, steadying herself then leaning against Minith as she spoke. "Thread has fallen over the seat south of Boll. Ista hold were heading south at the time. They were wiped out" She sagged against the dragon, and then took the goblet of wine that was offered to her by the concerned Lord. Sipping at it to steady herself she continued. "One ship survived, the beast ship. They are being towed here now. You are to ready ground crews for action. The next fall will be in two days over Fort territory. I must wait here until the ship gets here. We will stay on the heights to watch for them" She mounted up after handing back the empty goblet and smiled at the visibly shocked Lord. "Thank you for your hospitality" Minith crouched as Keris moved back, then sprang into the air and headed for the cliff edge. As they reached the cliff, they heard the bellow of the Lord Holder calling for people to rally round and check all the agenothree cylinders. S'len smiled t herself, Lord Holders would never change. They may be shocked at first, but they soon started shouting again! They watched the bustle going on around them, then S'len realised that the other Holds must be told. _Minith, can you tell the watchdragons about this? They will need to warn their holds to be ready. I am sure that M'ril would have asked us to do this if he had remembered._ Minith blinked, then nodded. Looking across the land, the green sent messages to al the dragons she knew were on watch duty, warning them of the need to prepare themselves. It is done, the dragons have told their riders, and their riders are telling the Lords She nuzzled into her rider, eyes whirling yellow with worry and upset._ We will be alright won't we?_ She sighed, turning her head into the caresses of her rider. S'len sighed as she reassured the green. They would be ok for now… She closed that worry from her mind so as not to scare her dragon, then sat and waited for the ship and her wing to arrive.

Lore Keris was inside the Hold. He had his Steward and a few of the section leaders with him. "Right. Thread has started to fall. Ista Hold's fleet were caught in the first fall. There was one ship that survived. The rest are gone" He waited for the shocked conversations to die down, raising one hand to gain attention again. "We have to be glad of the fact that they were caught in it. We are now warned, and will prepare. Thread is expected to fall over Fort territory in two days, we need to run a drill this afternoon and make sure all holders know what to do." His steward poured them all a cup of klah and spoke up. "I will go check the agenothree supplies now, and will start the hold children clearing any stray greens from the grounds" He left the room and it's occupants to their discussion. Keris turned back to the others. "Right, I want you all to go to your sections and tell them about this. No panic, just be calm and explain things fully to them. I am counting on you to stave off potential panic" He ushered the group out then sat at his desk staring at the tapestry on his wall. The dragons on it dove and swooped, flaming thread midair and protecting the ground below. Soon that would be happening above them. He stood then, flexing arms and legs, before heading down to the harbour to see if the ship was on her way yet. A shout rang out from that direction, followed by the bellow of a dragon and he sped up to reach the docks before the ship did.

The_ Star Chaser _was a mess, hardly recognisable as the proud ship that had left Fort Seahold a scant few sevendays back to take the prime herdbeasts to Ista, and Keris had to hold back a cry of shock as he saw her. The dragons pulled her to the docks then dropped the ropes for people to grab and tie fast. Captain Rennar was led onto the deck, and then down the gangplank that was dropped ashore, and into the arms of the waiting healers. He was led into the hold, protesting until it was promised that the beasts were going to be unloaded straight away, and Tirom was going to be treated as well. Keris called beastherders over to start the unloading, catching Tirom as he fell when he reached land. The man insisted on going with the beasts to settle them, and promised he would see the healers afterwards. Keris watched the unloading, calculating how much extra fodder would be needed, how much food for the new inhabitants of the Hold. He was startled by a shadow that soared over him then waved as the Greenrider flew overhead joining her wing. As the dragons disappeared Between, he turned and walked back to the hold. There was a lot to sort out, and drills to be held.

M'ril gestured the dragons and riders Between, almost lost in thought as he did so. There was a lot to do now, he and the other Wingleaders must check firestone supplies, check the health of the dragons and their riders and run an emergency drill. They appeared over the Weyr and were met by a large group or riders, and a handful of grim faced Lords and stewards, all wanting information. M'ril sighed and dismounted, clearing his throat then raising one hand. Waiting for silence, he then spoke, shouting to be heard at the back. "Thread fell over the sea south of Boll. Ista Hold's fleet were sailing South and were caught in the fall" Gasps and shouts of horror drowned his voice out, and he raised both hands for quiet again. "The fleet was destroyed, one ship remains and that and it's cargo of beasts have been transported to Fort Seahold. Now what you must all do, is go home and run ground crew drills, clear any green away, and above all, don't panic! Watchrider pairs will come back with you. In the event of a fall over you, one of them will alert us while the other scouts to see how far it has gone. Return home now, and prepare. We will be doing the same" He gestured to pairs of riders to take the Lords and stewards home, then turned to the rest of the riders. "We need to eat a meal, then we drill. We meet on the weyr ledges in an hour" He turned and headed to the dining caverns, he needed some food and klah before he could think. He was followed by the rest of the riders, most of his wing in some state of shock, the rest of the riders subdued and looking worried. Thread was falling, and all in all, the outcome did not look promising.

**Chapter Sixteen: Problems Appear**

M'ril looked around the weyr heights at the massed dragons. Of the nearly 500 remaining dragons, only 300 were able to fight Thread. The rest were too young or too old, and a few had developed crippling conditions after the virus. The old and young would be used as firestone carriers, especially the younger greens who hadn't chewed stone. If the Golds never chewed stone and were fertile, maybe the greens would be the same. It seemed hopeless, but it was the least they could do. With a sigh he waited for the last few dragons to arrive, scratching an itchy patch on the Bronze neck before him as he waited, grinning as he felt the pleased grunt through his seat and thighs. The Bronze was a lover of scratches, and would sit and be fondled and scratched for hours at a time if he could. He tilted his head back to look at his rider. Two of the greens are going to rise soon. One never chewed stone, but she is an early riser too. We will see how it goes. The last of the dragons arrive M'ril looked over as the last of the dragons landed on the cliff edge, then sighed before speaking, How had he ever become a Weyrleader figure to this bunch. He looked down at the gathered riders and dragons, a sense of pride filling him. Each rider and dragon pair gleamed with health and cleanliness, and each pair looked up at him, attentive and quiet. He cleared his throat and began to speak.

"We will split into six flights, each will follow the same patterns, each one led by a weyrleader wing. There will be three wings to each flight, fifteen dragons to a wing, that leaves some fifty plus dragons as backups in case of injuries. We will practice having an injured dragon drop out of the wing now and then, and their replacement arriving. Above all, no getting cocky and above yourselves. There is only so much we can do, and the more risks we take, the less riders we will have if something goes wrong. We MUST be careful to avoid injury in the real thing, so we practice again today" Rineth added his bellow in agreement, startling some of the more absorbed dragons. M'ril pointed to the Bronzeriders next to him. "These are the other weyrleader figures, they will be leading teams two through to six, I will lead team one. Everyone, good luck and fly well" He raised his arm, signalling to his three wings, and saw the other Bronzeriders do the same on the other side of him. The six Flights rose almost as one, and settled into their flight patterns. Rineth, tell the others to go Between to their destination Holds please. We will each practice over where we will fight. Three hour drills, then back here to meet up. Any dragon showing signs of breathing problems is to return to the weyr immediately to be replaced He waited while the Bronze relayed the message, then as Rineth reassured him that all was well and the dragons understood, raised his arm and signalled the dragons Between.

His wing came out from Between above Benden Hold. Below he could see the people of the hold out training with the flamethrowers and de greening the paths and heights again. No matter how many times greens were destroyed, they always came back. More holderfolk were out checking that the beast shelters were in good repair, and yet more harvesting what food could be harvested. Swooping to land, M'ril waited for Lord Minos to approach so he could explain what was happening. The Lord rode up on a lathered black runnerbeast, barely holding it in check as he wrestled it to a halt in front of the Bronze. M'ril leaned down to speak, asking Rineth not to rumble at the runnerbeast while he did so. The Bronze snorted, startling the runner, and nearly unseating the Lord. Bringing the beast under control , Minos first glared at Rineth, then called out to M'ril. "And why are we graced with your presence dragonrider, we are clearing greens and practising as we were told to do. Need we do more for you?" He grinned up at the younger man.

M'ril grinned back, the man really was a breath of fresh air when he chose to be. "We are here to practice a fall Lord Minos, we will be up in the air doing manoeuvres, and we will keep out of your way. You are doing a good job with the green clearing by the way. You have the least green we have seen in a hold yet" He leant back upright on his dragon and waved to the Lord as he turned his runnerbeast and galloped away, not even having to spur the runner on once. The grin still on his face, M'ril asked Rineth to rejoin the rest of the flight, then waved the rest of the team on. The practice was starting. For the first hour all went well. The dragons endurance levels seemed to be holding out, and only three dragons had gone back to the weyr through fatigue, and they were greens and a blue. The sturdier colours were holding up well and the dragons were holding their patterns well. The next hour was a little worse. Eight dragons dropped out, greens and blues, but also three browns and a bronze. From what he heard from Rineth, M'ril found that was pretty much the case for the other Flights too. Not more than sixteen dragons had left from any flight. He had no sooner heard this, and breathed a sigh of relief, when a dragon screamed, pain and terror in its voice.

Whipping his head around, M'ril saw one of the browns falter, then stop midair. Motionless aside from his wings, he hung there for a few seconds, green ichor pouring from his open mouth and nostrils while he scrabbled in the air for a breath that was never going to come. Suddenly, his neck snapped backwards in a pain induced spasm, and he lost consciousness. With a bellow, Rineth spun almost on his tail, striving desperately to catch the falling bundle of brown before he hit the floor. Wings and tail moving in the wind of his descent, the brown almost looked to be regaining consciousness, and Rineth pulled up for a few seconds before realising his mistake. Thin screams sounded from the falling brown, plainly the rider was still trapped on the body of his falling weyrmate. Groggily, the brown opened one eye as he neared the ground, looking at his bondmate without recognition for a moment, before realising he was no more than a few hundred feet from the ground. He tried to spread his wings to bear them up but was too weak from ichor loss to move them. His last attempt to save himself and his rider was to go Between, an effort that was made too late. Rineth, no more than a few feet from him 'felt' him reach for Between and miss. A scream of frustration and sorrow bursting from him, the Bronze levelled off barely a hundred feet off the ground, closing his ears against the screams of the strapped in rider on the dying brown.

With a last agonized cry, the brown tried his best to open his wings and slow them down. He had them halfway open when he hit the ground with a chilling crunch. The scream of the rider was cut off abruptly, and M'ril asked Rineth to land beside the motionless green soaked ball of brown on the ground. Dismounting he walked to the once graceful dragon and his rider, swallowing down bile and tears as he neared them. The wings were shattered and torn, and the dragon's legs were broken where he had tried to absorb the impact to save his rider. The rider was still trapped in the straps, and against all odds, was alive. Moving his head weakly he tried to focus on M'ril. "Mirenth, he hurts. I feel it…" He coughed, blood coming to his lips. "He wants to go Between… can't manage…" With another cough, the rider fell unconscious, and a low groan could be heard. The dragon was indeed still alive, but fading fast. M'ril almost jumped out of his wher hide when a voice came from behind him.

"Rineth called us in. Said you need help to get the brown Between." Turning, M'ril saw his brother standing behind him, sorrow in his eyes. Ranged behind him were a group of Bronzeriders, all in some state of shock. Wordlessly M'ril turned to Rineth and mounted up, waiting until the other riders had lashed ropes around what parts of the dragon they could reach, then handing the ropes to their dragons before mounting up. The group of eight Bronzes lifted into the air, carrying the broken bundle of brown dragon between them. The other seven looked to M'ril and received the gesture to go Between. The group went Between together, dropping the ropes as they entered the blackness. Re-entering. They were assailed by the keening of their flight as they mourned the passing of one of their own. Sadly, M'ril looked around his wings, noting the shock and sorrow that was clear on the faces of the riders.

"We had better get back to the weyr. The practice is called short. Someone please let the other flights know. You all did well though riders, well done" He waited for his flight to get into formation then lifted his arm to signal them Between. As they jumped, he saw Lord Minos looking up from the Hold and realised that the man was trying to hail him, but it was too late. He went Between, followed by his flight, back to the weyr. As they arrived and landed, people poured out from the weyr. They had been told by one of the dragons that they would need to bring food and drink for the riders. They quickly set up tables and chairs that were waiting, and placed klah, wine and meatrolls on the tables for the riders. The headwoman bustled towards M'ril as he walked towards the table, shock showing on his face now, and handed him a goblet of wine.

"Now then, you drink that. It's just plain wine for now, but the healers said if you didn't drink it then come get some klah they will fellis you" She watched as he nodded then drained the wine, then she led him to a table, seating him and snagging a meatroll and some klah for him. "You sit and eat and drink now, then the dragonhealer wants a word with you" She stood behind him as he ate, almost protecting him from people as he finished the food, and then helping him up. "Come now, we will go see Tiren now, he wants to know what happened to the Brown" She led him to the inner caverns to the healers rooms, knocking on the door then entering with him. "I brought him like you asked. Go easy on him, he looks to be in shock" She squeezed M'ril's shoulders, then left, closing the door behind her.


End file.
